Watson in Wonderland
by NoteBookAddict
Summary: John Watson steps through a mysterious door after following a very late Mrs. Hudson and finds himself in wonderland. Sherlock is there too, alone with many other familiar faces but why are they there? How can they escape? And who is pulling the strings behind this unusual gathering? One this is for sure, there're all mad there. Some language and violence, suitable for teen and up.
1. Through The Wooden Door

Beep beep beep.

Watson looked down at the phone in his hand. One new message.

_Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. SH_

The ex-army doctor sighed. He'd just been sent to the supermarket by the same man to get milk and had planned to buy a book or two whilst he was out.

Beep beep beep. Another message.

_If inconvenient come anyway. SH_

John sighed again, this time with less energy than before. He had never been able to get his mind around his room-mate. One minute Sherlock was sending him out on some errand and the next he wanted John back at 221B Baker Street immediately. There was nothing for it, John would have to forget the milk and return home. After all, it could be another emergency.

…

"Keep the change." Watson said to the taxi driver before he dived out the door and ran up the steps to the town house he lived in.

After unlocking the door, he proceeded to walk up the stairs to his apartment but stopped half way. The door was open. Not wide open with a friendly face smiling back down to John to calm his nerves but slightly agar with an eery silence floating through the gap.

"Sherlock?" He called out. "Sherlock are you there?"

When no-one replied, John moved slowly towards the door, making sure to put up his guard on high security. The small slice of artificial light shining through the doorway told him that thee curtains had been closed and the light turned on. But why?

The doctor moved his steady hand towards the door and pushed it open.

"Sherlock?" He called once more.

Walking into the room, he saw that it was empty. No Sherlock to be seen. But that wasn't all. The place was a mess. The books on the bookshelf were scattered over the floor, the paintings that used to line the wall now lay on their sides at tangents to the walls, and multiple coffee mugs had clearly smashed as they'd been tossed aside. Even the red armchair that Watson liked so much had been pouched aside from its original position.

_Holy mother of…_

A clatter came from the kitchen.

Slowly, John tiptoes towards the other room, picking up a heavy book on his way. He held it out, ready to attack when an old woman in a purple dress stepped in front of him.

"Mrs. Hudson!" John exclaimed.

"Yes, hello John." She replied, as if everything were perfectly normal.

He stared back at her, mouth gaping open. "What… What… Did you do this?" He asked, gesturing to the space around him.

"Yes dear, I'm looking for something. And I'm in a hurry"

John shook his head in bemusement.

"Well, could I help you?" He finally replied.

The woman looked up from her search. "Why yes you could! It's a round gold pocket watch with vines engraved around the edges. Makes a little ticking noise when you put it to you ear."

Watson stared to look for said object. "Mrs. Hudson, have you seen Sherlock? He told be to meet him here about twenty minutes ago."

"Yes." She replied with a huff. "He asked me to make him tea so I told him that I'm not his house keeper and then he just ran off down the stairs with no warning! Didn't even say good-bye."

This wasn't unusual. Sherlock often ran off with no warning. But never before had he ran off after texting John to meet him immediately, something just didn't seem right there.

"Oh here it is!" Mrs. Hudson beamed, holding up the dainty pocket watch.

"Oh, that's great…" John couldn't even finish his sentence before the old woman had left his apartment.

Running after her, Watson called out "Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. Hudson, where are you going?"

"I'm late!"

It took only a second for John to decided to follow her down the stairs. Mrs. Hudson moved very quickly, almost too fast for an elderly woman, and Watson had to sprint to keep up with her. As he ran, the stairs seemed to get longer and longer. A strange pounding started in John's head and the corridors started to blur together.

Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick

It was quiet at first but as it got louder, John recognised it as the sound a pocket watch would make if it were attached to an amplifier.

And then it began to resonate inside his head. Echoing off all the bones in his body.

John hit the wall.

He pushed himself off and continued after the woman in front of him. She seemed to be a mile away now, running down the endless steps that unfolded in front of them.

"Mrs. Hudson." He called out. But it didn't sound like him. The voice sounded strange and distant, as if it were called out by another John Watson that stood far away from him.

A door appeared before them. It was the door to the bottom apartment in the building and the old woman disappeared inside it. As soon as she did, the door began to shrink.

John ran, towards the deflating door, hoping that he could catch it before it disappeared for good.

He reached out his arm and begged for it to wait for him.

Faster and Faster he ran.

Reaching out.

And then, nothing.

…

Darkness. Darkness everywhere.

John looked around himself. He blinked again and again but it was no use. He couldn't see anything.

…

Hours seemed to pass. John sat in darkness. Silently waiting in confusion.

…

"Hello? Sherlock? Mrs. Hudson? Is anyone there?"

…

"Hello? I can't see anything. Please… Please help me."

…

Lying down on his side, John Watson Cradled his own head, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Suddenly, for the fist time since entering the gloomy pit, John felt a wave of soothing calm wash over him. He opened his eyes too see a small light floating in the air. It flinched away as the ex army doctor reached for it. Then it moved again. Further and further away.

John felt a pulling sensation and found himself crawling after the light. The close he got to it, the more hopeful he felt. Then, after minutes of only seeing one light, John noticed another object in the empty space around him.

It was a door. A single door. No wall, just a lonely door in the middle of nothingness.

The light came to a halt above the wooden door. Picking himself off the floor, John circled the peculiar door, trying to soak up any answers that it might have offered.

He stopped before the rusty copper handle. He didn't know what was through the door. He didn't know what would happen if he went through the door. But he knew that he had to open it and step through.

But this was just a door. Surely John would step through into the other side of the dark space that he had stood in only mementoes before. The idea that it would lead anywhere else was pure madness.

However, when John opened it and stepped through, he found himself in an entirely new place than before.

"John Watson." Whispered a silky voice behind his left ear. "Welcome to Wonderland."

**A/N: So this is my first Sherlock fan fiction! I really hope you like the first chapter, this was very fun to write :D And I'm really sorry if you were reading this hoping for some Sherlock/Watson action but this will not be a romance story. Still, keep reading if you want to find out what happens to John and Sherlock in Wonderland!**


	2. The Little Grandfather Clock

Click.

John felt the latch on the old wooden door spring open as he turned the handle. Slowly, he pushed it open and stepped through. Beyond the door was not the darkness that he should have found but a whole new room.

Bright light glowed from multiple chandeliers that swayed on the white carved ceiling. No. They didn't sway. They were moving. The crystal chandeliers were not even attacked to the high ceiling but were floating through the air in some sort of sleepy dance. And the candles that they held were casting a light too bright for single flames that was far too steady.

The tall walls that framed the rectangular room were covered in a mint green and gold wallpaper with a spiral vine-like design. After further inspection, John realised that the vines were also moving. The printed vines were moving. On the paper.

But that wasn't all. The black and white chess board floor tiled had seemed normal at first until Watson realised that it was, in fact, a chess board. With life-size chess pieces lined on both his left and right side. That were moving themselves. In fact, the only thing that seemed to be acting normally was the round clock in the corner of the room that provided a background ticking noise.

John blinked and rubbed his eyes. _What is this madness? How can this be possible?_

It was at this moment that he felt a presence behind him.

"John Watson. Welcome to Wonderland."

Spinning around, John found himself face to face with a face that he had not seen in a very long time.

"Adler. What are you doing here? What am I doing here?" Watson paused before continuing in a quieter tone. "Where is here?"

"Didn't I tell you? This is Wonderland!" Called out Irene as she spread out her arms and spun around the chess tiles.

"Yes you did say that." John replied, slightly annoyed. "Just tell me what the fu-. Just tell me what Wonderland is."

"Tut tut Johnny. Hasn't anyone told you that air quotes aren't cool anymore?" Came a teasing voice.

This had to be a dream. No, a nightmare. Caught in a crazy room with Irene Adler in a skin-tight black dress with no escape. Perhaps this would be a dream some true for Sherlock but not for John.

Irene lowered her arms and rolled her eyes. "No need to take every thing so seriously, Watson. Wonderland is a magical world. Here, anything is possible. That's why it's such a wonder."

This was not the explanation John had been looking for, and he told the woman in the simplest way he could think of.

"You're crazy."

"We're all crazy! Oh and John," Adler continued, "you should try to find Sherlock soon. He might need your help."

John tried to question Irene more but before he could get out another word, she had given him a wide grin and vaporised into thin air.

_Absolute madness._

…

After turning the corner, John Watson discovered that the next corridor was just like the last. It's pink and purple diamond-shaped wall boards disappeared into the distance and the black pond that he was standing on had the same bottomless feeling as before. As he took a step forward, the ex army doctor discovered that it too sent out little ripples as his foot touched it.

_Walking on water. I must be God._

John shook his head. The further he travelled down the identical hall ways, the more crazy his thoughts became. Was there no end to this nightmare?

He turned the next corner. Again, the corridor stretched out before him. How many copy corridors could there be in one building? But that was when John saw it. The tiny grandfather clock floating about two feet under the dark watery flooring, beside the third pink diamond along the wall. The same tiny grandfather clock that he had passed before. Several times.

This was when John realised that he hadn't been walking very far. In fact, he hadn't been walking anywhere. He had been turning the same corner onto the same corridor each time, trapped in an endless cycle.

Clutching his head, Watson sank to the floor with a defeated moan.

"Jesus Christ."

Tick Tick Tick Tick

With his hands covering his eyes, John became aware of the quiet ticking noise made by the clock. It seemed to comfort him, much to John's surprise. Slowly, he allowed himself to look down at the source of the noise. It didn't look like much. Just a small, wooden, beat-up looking grandfather clock.

Steadily, Watson laid his hand on the smooth surface that separated him from the clock. Stone cold. John let go of his breath evenly until he felt a stillness inside of him. He didn't know what this would do but the second he did it, his hand started to sink into the dark water.

It felt like butter. Soft, runny butter.

Dizziness hit John like a truck at full speed. He felt his head spin back and before he knew it, John fell into the butter-like water beneath him.

Choking, suffocating, Watson knew that he was drowning.

Darkness. Not only was the liquid pitch black but John doubted that he would have been able to see even if it was clear. As he thrashed his arms, John felt his left palm brush against another object. Something small and rectangular. Something that ticked.

…

Sitting against the pink and purple wall, John Watson looked down at the old grandfather clock in his hand. It was even smaller than it had appeared through the dark fluid floor.

As soon as he had grasped the clock for the first time, the confusion in his head had disappeared and the world suddenly righted itself. Quite literally. John had felt the space around him steady itself and he fell out of the pond, returning to the same corridor as before.

At least he wasn't wet.

Now, staring at the little clock, Watson couldn't help but wonder how such a seemingly insignificant object could have had the power to abolish some of the madness of this world._ Wonderland._

Click clack. Click clack. Click clack.

John looked up. At first, he saw a large figure moving towards him from the far end of the hall way but as it got closer, the being split into two. But that wasn't all. Soon, John was able to make out the faces of the people approaching him and he didn't like it at all. It was Sally Donovan and her playmate Philip Anderson.

"Dr. John Watson." Sally spoke first. "What are you doing in a place like this?"

A short laugh escaped John's lips. "Well hopefully I'm dreaming, but would you believe it if I said I don't know?"

To his surprise, Donovan and Anderson both started to laugh. Not a sarcastic laugh, but a long and hysterical laugh. The type of laugh you would expect to hear from someone in a mental institution.

"Um… Okay then… Have either of you seen Sherlock?"

Another burst of laughter came from the odd couple.

Tick Tick Tick

The little clock vibrated slightly with every movement of the second-hand and it drove John insane that his time was being wasted by two of the people he disliked most.

"Look I'm really starting to get impatient here." John almost shouted. "Have either of you seen Sherlock or not? Just tell me now."

Silence. Sally and Philip looked at each other and then back to Watson.

"I haven't seen Sherlock, have you?"

"No I haven't"

"But if I had seen Sherlock I think he might have been through there."

"Yes I do believe that if I had also seen Sherlock he might have been through there too."

John watched the two chatter between themselves in utter disbelief. This was not at all how they normally acted. Usually, they would act stern and superior, often criticising Sherlock for being a psychopath and John for being crazy to follow him. But this pair? Donovan and Anderson were the crazy ones now. Absolutely crazy.

John stopped.

"Hold on," he said, the clogs inside his brain starting to turn, "through where?"

"Through there." The couple spoke in unison and pointed to the wall on the right side of the corridor behind John.

As Watson sceptically turned towards the wall that he knew contained no doors, he was astonished to see that the duo were correct. On the precise spot that Donovan and Anderson had pointed too stood a tin door. It had been painted red by somebody who clearly didn't know how to use a brush and the door handle lay crookedly to the side.

"But" John mumbled softly, "that wasn't there before."

Another hysterical laugh came from the couple.

"Oh John Watson you're so funny!"

Without even saying goodbye, both Sally and Philip skipped past John and disappeared around the corner.

"See? We're all mad here." Purred a voice in John's ear.

**A/N: The second chapter is up! Again this has not been beta read so I'm really sorry if I made any language or punctuation errors. I hope you liked it :D Thanks for reading!**


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